


a calculated erosion

by Gildedstorm



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Brainwashing, Gen, agender jedi knight, falling to the dark, in which the knight crew suffer and shen has the categorically worst time, the emperor's fortress and what comes after, trauma and the aftermath
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gildedstorm/pseuds/Gildedstorm
Summary: The path Shenrihn takes hurtles them towards the Sith Emperor (because of duty, because Tol Braga's resolve warms them like the sun, because surely if they do this they can find peace) and they find themselves facing a darkness as monstrous as the Rakata, just as hungry, far too soon.Peaceproves all too fragile.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> suffice to say, this year has been Rough and it's not even half over! my surprise that I hadn't posted since december was very short-lived. I've still been writing - just slowly and with shorter, often disconnected pieces that have mainly gone to tumblr, but I'm aiming to fix that...

Shenrihn does their best to keep busy as they jump into hyperspace, checking on supplies and letting T7 guide them in errands and bits of maintenance until they run out of work. They’re tempted to try to reach into the Force to map their course, or at least find their destination, but there is a chance that someone would sense it.

No, not _someone_ – that their quarry would sense it, and them. Not even another Force Hound could tell what they were doing or who they were, not at that distance, but the Emperor is... different. Less a user of the Force and more some dark star that has warped the space around him, so entire systems crumble away in orbit.

They still do not think this will work. It’s a terrible admission – they must have faith in Master Tol Braga, and in the Force as it carries them, but the doubt and fear rises up no matter how many times they stifle it. They only glimpsed his power when he channelled himself through Kira, and imagining that cold darkness being tempered somehow, dimming and leaving any kind of space for light seems impossible.

At the very least, Shenrihn knows they can’t bear to voice those fears. The last thing this mission needs is a distraction, or for their concerns to spread to the others. They are more experienced Jedi, confident and well rooted, and Tol Braga _shines_ in the Force. So they do this, or they die.

Those are familiar enough stakes.

There is no  point in even asking Rusk if he’s sure he wants to accompany them, given the reckless courage he showed on Hoth. T7 has already brightly assured them that they will stay no matter what happens. It is the other two members of their crew they’re not sure about – and really, Shenrihn wouldn’t blame them for leaving.

It’s what  _they_ would be doing, if they could.

“Yes, we have enough kolto,” Doc says, not bothering to look up as they approach. “You’ve only tried to check twice already – with how much I have to patch you up, I order three more tanks every other week.”

“Doc,” they say, and perhaps it’s their tone that makes him look at them.

“...So, not the kolto then.”

“No. Sorry.” It’s difficult to begin – they don’t know Doc all that well for the months he’s been on-board, and they can’t hardly say they trust him as they do T7 and Kira. But he should still be heard, if only because they know everyone deserves that much. “Someone should stay with the ship, when we dock.”

The look they get is mildly scathing. “I’m pretty sure that’s what the droid is doing.”

He is... not wrong. “Someone with... better judgment,” they offer. “Who will be able to tell if we’ve failed.”

“And someone who’s going to leave five Jedi trapped in an enemy stronghold.” He raises an eyebrow. “That’s quite an assessment of my character you’ve got.”

This isn’t the time to argue, and Shenrihn clamps down on their own irritation that he’s taking this personally.  _There is no emotion._ “If we fail, we will not be trapped,  w e will be dead. Someone must pilot the ship and return to Tython to tell the Council. I think it should be you.”  There’s more they could say – that as a healer he knows when to accept loss, that he’s the only one who can be spared – but it’s too hard to be diplomatic with so much nervous energy burning under their skin. 

His mouth twists into a scowl, but he nods. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” they say, fervent.

“But you know,” Doc says, “I’ve _seen_ what you can do, you and Kira. If the guy leading this is even better... there’s a chance you could actually pull this off. I know you’re allergic to the glory and all that, but try thinking of all the lives you’ll save – not just what might go wrong, for once.”

“I... will try,” they manage.

Which leaves one person left to talk to, and as soon as Kira sees them coming she turns  her back, and they’re left to trail after her like a padawan .

“Nope. We are not doing this.”

“Kira.”

“I could feel you worrying from all the way across the ship. But you don’t have to be,” she says, talking quickly. “Because there’s nothing to talk about. We have a mission – _you_ have a mission – and we have to complete it.”  The Force curls protectively around her, bristling with fear. 

“You can stay –” they start and she whirls around so suddenly that they have to hurry back a few steps.

“You _know_ how having me stay behind is going to look! They’re going to think that I’m weak, or a threat. I’m a _Jedi_. I should be stronger than this. I should be –” Her voice breaks and Shenrihn wishes they could reach out to her with the calm certainty they lost their grip on hours ago. “I should be _better_.”

“ _Kira_ –”

“Besides, you didn’t take that chance when you had it. You faced down the monster that ruined your life and you killed it. Am I just worse than you? Is that it?”

T hey stare at her, stricken by the comparison.

“No. That was....” Shenrihn wrestles with the right words. The Rakata had been a prisoner, weakened by being forgotten for so long, while the Emperor is at the height of his power, but she knows that as well as they do. Pointing out that they had nearly fallen back to the dark side during that encounter would only be cruel. “That’s not fair, Kira,” they say at last.

“...Maybe it isn’t,” she mutters, and they pretend not to notice how she rubs at her eyes. “It’s too late to change anything. We both know that.”

“I’m sorry,” Shenrihn says, for lack of anything better.

“I am too.”


	2. Chapter 2

No one watches as Shenrihn walks through the dark, echoing halls. There are fewer Sith than they had expected apart from the Overseer and a few of his people, and the guards are either menacing war droids or just as menacing people covered in crimson armour, silent and unmoving. Their minds feel sharp somehow, and Shenrihn shies away from sensing anything further. They can’t risk drawing attention.

There are goals beyond this one, something that might even be a plan, but the helmet is heavy on their head and their breathing echoes back to them, distorted and rasping through the respirator. Their voice doesn’t sound like their own. Every time they try to focus, their thoughts skitter back to that in dull horror. They need to get it off, but they can’t, not until they’re certain they’re alone and not being watched.

At last they stumble upon a refresher somewhere in the interminable corridors, and as soon as the door slides closed they tear the helmet off, and then their gloves, dropping them to the floor. The tattoos on their hands are still there, and they trace them with shaking fingers, first one, then the other.

For once they’re not a mark of ownership, a link to a past that makes them tainted and untrustworthy, more tool and artifact than person. _Shen_ , the root of the Jedi Shenrihn. What they came from, and what they’ve surpassed. Whatever happened to them, however long they have been trapped here, they are not lost. 

N ot yet.

The Force is heavy here, a pressure that hangs overhead and settles on their shoulders like a weight they had only been half aware of until now. The dark side feels close enough to touch. They have touched it already – drawn upon it, used it for strength. Shenrihn knows that, just as they know that there are new callouses on their palms, that they move a little differently, that their body remembers drills and routines that they were not awake for.

The Emperor made them a weapon, and they had been sharpened, focused. No, even worse – they had always been a weapon, and he had just knocked away the dust and reshaped them. It hadn’t even been _hard._

Bile rises in Shenrihn’s throat too quickly to swallow it down. Blindly they reach out – and the Force swells at their fingertips, cold and burning.

_No._

“I am a Jedi,” they say haltingly, to the helmet at their feet, their wide-eyed reflection, the Force itself. They fight their way to remembering the code, but the fear remains beneath it, weakening each word. _There is peace_ has always felt like a promise to them – if not now, then soon.

Now it feels like a lie, one too frail to believe in. How can there be peace here when their body was hollowed out by the Emperor’s will? They might be awake and free of him now, but they’ve also been _changed._

How can there _ever_ be peace?

Shenrihn hangs on to the one strand of thought they can manage – _they cannot stay here_ – and slowly the panic and horror subsides. Their grip on the Force loosens. It’s better to avoid calling on it at all than risk reaching out and touching the dark again. The Order can help them, but that requires reaching it.

Find their people, if they’re still alive. Find a ship. Escape this place before they learn anything more of what they had done while their mind was shut up in darkness.

Surely they can manage that much. Forcing their breathing to become slower, deeper, they shakily put their gloves back on, lift up the helmet again.

It feels no less a prison the second time around, but at least it’s one they won’t have to bear for much longer.


End file.
